Song Page - Lyrify.me

Lyrify.me

Lights Out Freestyle by Quilly Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2017

[Intro: Quilly]

Yeah, this shit sound good Brent
I like this (we keepin' all that)
Turn the beat up some more in my headphones
(Bitch I'm all that)

[Verse 1: Quilly]

Niggas' shot me, I ain't even die
5 30s, I ain't even high
Told my girl "Yeah, I'm cheatin' bitch"
Fuck these hoes, I don't need to lie
Blue dicky, when I'm in the club
Pair of butters, I ain't even fly
Stevie Wonder ribbon in the sky
Farrakhan, yeah I need a pie
Plain rollie, no ice in it, crap table, put the dice on it
Home in (?) tryna clean the house, whats the bet?
Put your life on it. Perc dick; got your wife on it
Your loyalty gotta price on it, my dope a 10 got em moon walking
And the stamp got Mike on it
I got a dot on me now, soft
I'm rockin' it now, broke niggas' caught me lackin'
Tell em come rob me right now
This year, I'ma smoke somethin', go to jail, I'ma poke somethin'
I ain't never runnin' out of work, call (?) then a boat comin
Funk Flex got a bomb on me, lunch money; got a dime on me
I can fuck your Aunt, Sister, Mom; prolly got your grandma on me
16, used to run the spot, 17 wit a fuckin' block
Out of pocket, hittin' bitches raw, got burnt by a fuckin' THOT
Give a bad bitch 5 minutes, I don't care if she cum or not
HI-TECH, I'ma clean the jar, every drop; can't waste that
D.A. want my case back, call Shaka; he gon' spank that
P.Diddy told you "take that", hold up Brent, bring the bass back
I bought your bitch a pair of knee pads
Mom think I need rehab, take my shot wit a tea bag
Hit my girl's cousin, now she mad
Made it up with another purse, she blew my high;
Popped another perc
Bitch, you talkin' to the wave lord, sold her offshore
Now she wanna surf
Uh, paid in full; money Mitch
You're pocket watching; Uncle Ice
You just rode another dick, I just caught another flight
Nasty wit the flow, nothin' nice, this just somethin' light
She DM'd me her number this mornin', I bet I fuck tonight!
I Mariah Carey'd it, Jim Carey; carry shit
Smokers on some "Losing Isaiah", Halle Berry shit
No Qualitest or mgp, only Berry sip
Money in the Camens, I could dig it up and bury it
Fresh home, every time I drop, it's a heat wave
Call me after 9, I made a dime off the prepaid
Moncler onesies, I was born wavy
Side bitch draw'n in my comments actin' crazy
Transport the white like I'm drivin' Ms. Daisy
I can go Felipe's or 3 wings, rice and gravy
All I ever wanted was a Rollie Rollie
I'm in an Audi doin Doughnuts, Holy Moly
They had me in the jail, no bail in a dipsy
I'm tellin' Shaka Johnson "get me home fore' they forget me"
I hit a bitch and drop her off, spin in like a Frisbee
Dope like the 60s, the stamp; Walt Disney